Sweet Dreams, Little Man
by Lilybelmae
Summary: When Dean has a nightmare about his mother at age five, his Daddy comforts him. History repeats itself when Sam has a nightmare about losing his Daddy and brother at the age of eight. Just a nice fluffy two shot because John Winchester had some good in him. Rated T for graphic images and course language.
1. Chapter 1

**I do not own **_**Supernatural**_**, despite how much I love the Winchester boys. That honour belongs to the CW and Eric Kripke.**

_The fire crackled angrily through the Winchester family home. Four-year-old Dean Winchester stared up at his mommy burning in flames on the ceiling above his baby brother, Sammy's crib. _

"_Run, Dean!" Mommy shouted at him, blood dripping from her abdomen down onto Sammy's face. "Run! Get Sammy and Run!"_

"_Yes, Dean," cackled a sinister voice. "Run, oh, but do leave Sammy, he's going to be a big help one day,"_

"_NO!" Dean cried, frantically reaching for Sammy._

_The yellow eyed thing shoved Dean down on the floor and picked up Sammy._

"_Put him down!" Dean shouted, terrified, lunging for the creature again._

_The creature simply knocked Dean over again and grabbed Sammy by his neck, hands twisting it in an unnatural state._

"_NO!" Dean wailed. "SAMMY!"_

Five-year-old Dean Winchester woke up with a start, eyes wide. He'd just had the most horrible nightmare about the night his mommy died. He could still smell the smoke in the house and feel the heat of the fire. Most of all, he could still see a pair of big yellow eyes looking hungrily at his baby brother, Sammy. Dean shuddered, shaking his head to try to remove those scary images. Ever since that night, Dean had been trying to be brave for his Daddy and Sammy, but it hadn't been easy. He didn't trust himself to speak for fear of crying and upsetting his Daddy, so he'd stopping talking completely. He hadn't spoken since that night; it was now April. Dean peeked into Sammy's crib to check that he was still there and still safe. The crib was empty and there was no 11-month-old baby to be seen. Dean couldn't help it, he began to panic. His eyes filled with tears and his breath came in shallow gasps. Sammy couldn't be gone, he just couldn't be. Life was already unbearable without Mommy, and Dean didn't know what he would do if something happened to Sammy. The door to Dean and Sammy's room creaked open and Dean whipped his head up, his blood running cold. What if the thing that got Sammy got him too? Dean put up his fists and put on a menacing glare, well as menacing as a glare from a five-year-old can be anyway before turning towards the intruder.

"Deano?"

It was Daddy. Tears ran down Dean's cheeks and he swallowed hard, trying and failing to stop them.

"What are you doing up, kiddo?" Daddy asked, scooping Dean up into his arms. "What's wrong?"

"Sammy's gone, Daddy," Dean hiccupped. "The bad thing got him,"

"No, baby, shhhh," Daddy cooed, carding his fingers through Dean's blonde hair. "Sammy's right here, see?"

Daddy turned Dean towards Sammy's crib and Dean let out a breath he didn't know he was holding when he saw Sammy standing in the crib looking at him wide eyed.

"But, Daddy," Dean whimpered. "I dreamed th-that when the bad thing that g-got Mommy g-got S-Sammy too and when I waked up he was gone and couldn't find him and, and-"

"Deep breaths, little one, that it's" Daddy murmured. "I know it was scary finding Sammy gone, but he was with me, Dean. Sammy was cranky because he was teething and I didn't want him to wake you,"

"Oh," Dean sighed.

"Is that why you've been sleeping in Sammy's crib?" Daddy asked. "To make sure he's safe from the bad things,"

Dean nodded not trusting himself to speak as tears once more filled his eyes.

"Oh, Dean," Daddy sighed softly. "Why didn't you come to me, kiddo?"

"Because if I went to your bed and I saw Mommy wasn't there with you, I'd feel sad," Dean whispered. "And if I felt sad, I might cry and I couldn't be brave for you,"

"Deano," Daddy murmured. "It's ok to be sad for your Mommy, ok? But I know she'd want you to talk. She wants you to be brave for her so you can tell Sammy all about her,"

"Daddy," Dean blubbered. "Is it ok to cry?"

"You bet," Daddy croaked.

Daddy held Dean tight as Dean sobbed out his grief into his chest, the familiar smell of old spice, gun oil, and sweat bringing him comfort. Daddy murmured reassurances to Dean until Dean felt much calmer and the tears running down his cheeks were slowing down.

"Daddy?" Dean asked softly.

"Yeah, bud?"

"Could the bad thing that got Mommy come back and get Sammy?"

"No, Dean," Daddy said firmly. "I won't let it get you, me, or Sammy and that's a promise. I'll also teach you how to keep you and Sammy safe so won't feel like you need to climb into his crib with him to keep safe,"

"Ok, Daddy," Dean yawned.

"Alright, little man," Daddy smiled softly. "It's time for you to go back to sleep."

Daddy went to lay Dean back down on the bed, but Dean gripped his shirt tight and wailed,

"No, Daddy, don't leave me!"

"Shh, shh, I won't baby, I won't," Daddy soothed. "I'm right here, Deano, I'm right here,"

Dean snuggled into Daddy's chest and whimpered, "When I close my eyes, the bad thing with yellow eyes keeps staring at me, Daddy,"

"Shh," Daddy hushed. "I'm right here, Deano, and that bad thing won't come anywhere near you ok?"

"Ok," Dean whispered through his tears.

Daddy pulled Dean close and carded his fingers through Dean's hair again, softly singing a song Dean was sure he'd heard Mommy sing before. Dean was half asleep when he heard Sammy's soft cries.

"Daddy?" Dean murmured.

"Mmm?"

"Can Sammy sleep with us? He sounds sad too,"

"Of course, Deano," Daddy kissed the top of Dean's head.

Daddy picked up Sammy and laid him next to Dean on top of his chest. Dean put his little arm around Sammy and felt Daddy put his huge arms around him and Sammy. Finally feeling safe and content Dean sighed,

"Good night, Daddy," and fell asleep.

He didn't hear Daddy whisper back,

"Sweet dreams, little man, Daddy loves you so much,"

**This is a two shot so stick around for part two and review, review, review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**As promised, here's part 2 ****. I do not own **_**Supernatural**_**, despite how much I love the Winchester boys. That honour belongs to the CW and Eric Kripke.**

_The shadowy monster growled, showing its massive teeth. Sam Winchester whimpered as his brother Dean walked towards the ugly creature, gun in hand. _

"_Get away from my brother, you son of a bitch!" Dean roared, shooting at the monster._

_The bullets did nothing to the monster and it charged forward and chewed up Dean, blood and skin dribbling down it's sides._

"_NO!" Sam cried in despair. "DEAN!"_

_Dad came running, holding a knife and pushing Sam behind him._

"_I'll get Dean back, Sam," Dad growled. "This fucker's gonna pay!"_

_With that, Daddy lunged at the monster as it opened its foul mouth, swallowing him whole._

"_NO!" Sam screamed. "DADDY!"_

Eight-year-old Sam Winchester awoke with a start in a cold sweat. That dream always scared the heck out of him. The little boy climbed out of his bed and walked towards his older brother's room in the decrepit rental house before remembering that Dean was at his school's science centre sleepover. Sam swallowed back tears wishing Dean was there as he always made Sam's nightmares go away. He wished he could go talk to Dad but he knew that Dad was probably exhausted from hunting and didn't need to be bothered with Sam's childish fears anyways. What would Dean do? Sam thought and then it hit him. Whenever Sam had a nightmare, Dean would always give Sam a glass of milk to calm him down and it always worked.

Sam quietly crept down the stairs, trying to avoid the creaky ones and hoping and praying he wouldn't wake Dad. After all, a grumpy John Winchester is not a man anyone should ever see. Sam tiptoed into the kitchen, turning on the lights over the counter, rather than all the lights. It wouldn't do for his father to see the light on and yell at Sam to get his ass back to bed. He walked over to the high kitchen cupboard that held the glasses and opened it. Sam tried to grab a glass but it was too high up for him to reach. Determined to get a glass, Sam dragged a kitchen chair over to the counter and climbed up on the counter to grab a glass. He was just reaching up to get a glass when he heard Dad yell,

"SAMUEL WILLIAM WINCHESTER WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING, YOUNG MAN?!"

Sam slipped in the shock of being caught by Dad and felt himself falling off the counter. He braced himself for impact with the floor only to feel himself fall against his father's warm chest instead. Sam gripped onto his father tight, shaken from the incident and thankful for his father's quick reflexes.

"What on Earth were you doing on the counter?!" Dad scolded, gently shaking Sam. "You fell off! You could have been badly hurt Samuel! What do you have to say for yourself?!"

"I'm sorry, Daddy!" Sam wailed. "I couldn't sleep!"

"What?" Dad asked startled.

"I couldn't sleep," Sam cried into Dad's chest.

"Why couldn't you sleep, Sammy?" Dad asked, pulling out a kitchen chair and sitting down with a lapful of Sam.

"I had a nightmare," Sam blubbered. "And I wanted Dean and he's not here so I thought a glass of milk would help and I couldn't reach the glasses so I climbed up on the counter and-"

"Breathe, kiddo," Dad murmured, laying Sam's head down on his chest. "It's ok, Sammy, I'm not mad. I'm right here. Do you want to tell me what you dreamed about?"

Sam nodded and said,

"Dean was trying to protect from a monster and then it ate him up. Then you came and tried to kill the monster and get Dean back but it ate you up,"

"Ooh, that's one doozy of a dream, bud," Dad soothed. "But you don't have to worry, Sammy, nothing like that is ever going to happen, ok?"

"But it could!" Sam argued tearfully. "What if one of the monsters you hunt gets you and Dean?"

"How did you know I hunt monsters?" Dad asked with suspicion.

"I kinda read your journal around Christmas," Sam mumbled softly.

"I see," Dad lectured gently. "Well, you know the truth then and I'm not surprised it's giving you nightmares. But, Sammy, listen to me when I say that I never take risks when I hunt and I would never let Dean do that either. And if a monster is too much for me to handle alone, I always hunt with backup. I love you boys too much to leave you alone and I would never do anything to get myself hurt, do you understand?"

"Uh huh," Sam nodded. "Do you think a monster could come and get us here?"

"No," Dad shot down. "Dean and I know how to take down any monster that could possibly harm you and we put down salt lines to keep nasty creatures like demons out. Believe me when I say Sam that as long as you're with me or Dean, you're as safe as possible,"

"Ok," Sam yawned.

"Alright, Sammy," Dad sighed. "Let's get you back to bed, it's late,"

"No!" Sam cried, clinging to Dad's night shirt. "I don't want to be alone! Don't leave me, Daddy!"

"Shh, shh, baby," Dad soothed, carding his fingers through Sam's chestnut curls. "I'm not going anywhere, ok? Let's get you that milk."

Dad lifted Sam up onto his hip, even though Sam was too big to be carried, and walked over to the fridge, taking out the milk one handed. He reached up, grabbed a mug out of the cupboard, and filled it with milk. After putting the milk back in the fridge, he put the mug of milk into the microwave for a minute. When the milk was warm, he took it out of the microwave, sat back down on the kitchen chair, and handed the mug to Sam.

"Careful," Dad warned gently. "It's hot,"

Sam blew on the milk and sipped it slowly out of the mug, snuggling into his dad's chest and breathing in the comforting scent of old spice, gun oil, and sweat. When he finished the milk, Dad took the mug, placed it on the table, and gently wiped the milk mustache off of Sam's face. Then, Dad lifted Sam back onto his hip and carried him back upstairs to bed. When Dad laid Sam down in bed, Sam still clung to his father's shirt.

"Will you sleep with me, Daddy?" Sam asked sleepily.

"Of course, Sammy," Dad murmured climbing in next to Sam.

Dad carded his fingers through Sam's hair and sang a song Sam thought he remembered Dean singing. Slowly, Sam began to fall asleep, and right before he closed his eyes, he mumbled,

"Good night, Daddy,"

He was asleep before Dad whispered back,

"Sweet dreams, little man, Daddy loves you so much."

**Thanks for reading and please review, review, review!**


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